Dear Blythe and Olive: As your crayons, markers, and paints, we wanted to commend you for the passionate and endless ways you have used us....

  {this moment}: A Friday ritual. A single photo capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to...

{this moment}: A Friday ritual. A single photo capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause,...

Calling you delightful, Olive, seems like a drastic understatement or cliche (sadly, words limit us at times to describe the full measure of a person),...

You are a force, Burke. Not the force, but a force nonetheless. Whether throwing your body to tackle someone or wrapping your legs and arms around...

In honor of today, the kids and I have been reading books and talking about MLK Jr., which of course has led to much larger...

This one is for the lot of you who so patiently keep returning here to our poor, neglected blog. Yes, you, who regularly request by...

This last year I often told people, “someone should write a book paralleling toddlers and teenagers.” Both stages, somehow awkardly trapped in the continuum of...

Dad and I often refer to you as a man trapped in a boy’s body: a man-child, I suppose. The other day we were talking...

Who cares about all the reasons I can’t find time to write. Maybe we’ve been visiting family. Or possibly mailing the letter my 5 year-old...